


Anniversaries

by shelny18



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Anniversary, Engagement, F/M, M/M, Marriage, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 18th February was important for almost every member of Les Amis, with each and every one having an anniversary of some sort on that day, some old and some new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversaries

**Author's Note:**

> So the 18th was my one year anniversary of posting stuff on here. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stuff (you guys are awesome!). This is kind of a thanks to you all, but is mainly just a lot of fun. The pairings were mostly chosen by my flatmates just to keep life interesting.
> 
> Usual routine: if you recognise it, it's mine; if they're OOC, you have my sincerest apologies.

The 18th February was important for almost every member of Les Amis. For Bossuet it was the day he'd run into Joly (literally) and been introduced to the rest of the group. For Feuilly and Combeferre it marked the date of their first kiss, a week after they'd started dating.

For Éponine and Bahorel the 18th was much more bittersweet. It was the day they'd fallen into bed together, both drunk and trying to forget the unobtainable crushes they'd been harbouring for a while, and it was because of that night that Éponine had vanished out of their lives for a while, just as Bahorel was deciding he could happily see the girl as more than a friend. Yet it was also on this date, a year later, when she'd walked back into the Musain, looking tired and resigned, and with a three-month-old baby girl.

It had been Combeferre who'd asked the all-important question, and when she replied all eyes had turned to Bahorel. "It's simple then," he'd said, moving over to Éponine. "Move in with me. If you'll still have me that is. We've a spare room and my mum won't mind. She'll likely help look after her. What's her name?" He'd laughed quietly at that, holding a finger out for his daughter to grab onto. "I should have asked that first really. Some dad I am." When Éponine had told him - Chantelle - and agreed to his idea a lot more readily than he'd expected, another idea jumped into his mind. "In fact, while we're at it, marry me." It was only the serious look in his eyes which persuaded her.

"Get me a ring and I'll consider it," she'd said, eyes locked with his, half-expecting him to back down. At that he'd pulled out the necklace he always wore under his shirt and slid off it his mother's ring.

"She gave it me when dad died," he'd shrugged. "Said one day she hoped I'd meet a nice girl to give it to."

Even if Éponine had had second thoughts at the time she never went back on her word, and within six months any second thoughts had long since vanished, having seen how devoted her fiancé was to his daughter and her.

Yet for many others the day held not quite so enjoyable memories. Enjolras had finally kissed Grantaire the Christmas of their last year of university, but just over two years later it had all fallen to pieces.

_"I'm sorry! How many fucking times do I have to say it?"_

_"It's not fucking good enough! Sorry is for forgetting to buy the milk, or getting home late from work when you've promised you'll be out on time, not going out, getting blindingly drunk and kissing some complete stranger!"_

_"Like you don't get drunk every fucking day!"_

_"Not since dating you I haven't! And I never cheated, never!"_

_"I DIDN'T MEAN TO!"_

_"Oh, and that just makes it all better I suppose!"_

_"I know it can't but I wish it could! Dammit Grantaire, I love you!"_

_"Bit too fucking late for that now."_

_"What do you mean too late?"_

_"I mean it's too late! Don't you stand in my way Enjolras or I swear to God-"_

_"You'll what? Hit me? Leave through the window? We're on the third floor Grantaire, maybe if I stay here you'll actually stop and talk to me."_

_"I don't want to talk, especially not to you!"_

_"Please Grantaire."_

_"No."_

The argument had ended then, Enjolras quietly moving to one side and letting Grantaire leave, that one word telling him more than anything else that they were over. That night, when the group had gathered to celebrate Bahorel and Éponine's anniversary they had all been quieter than normal, the party spoilt by the absence of both friends.

Six years later the group had gathered on the 18th for a different party and were all much more cheerful, even Feuilly.

"Right, now remember, we have to stay quiet or they'll work out we're all here early," Bahorel said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Has anyone heard from Enjolras or Jehan? They haven't answered my texts."

"Jehan probably got distracted by his poetry, and Enjolras was busy writing yet more speeches last I heard, for the protest in a couple of weeks," Grantaire said from his corner, calmer than he'd felt in months, to the point where the bottle before him was still unopened. "They'll be along, but probably not until the meeting is due to begin."

"Then they'll have to miss the surprise," the boxer grinned.

"What if Courfeyrac says no?" Joly asked worriedly.

"Not gonna happen," Feuilly dismissed instantly from where he was leaning back on two legs of his chair. "They're crazy about each other."

"But still…"

"Courf will say yes Joly, and then we can all have a party and relax."

"How do you guys even know he's planning to ask?" Bossuet inquired.

Éponine smirked. "Combeferre came and asked us girls what we thought would make a romantic proposal. He wanted to know what 'Chetta thought of the ring as well."

"He even got a ring? Nice," Grantaire whistled.

Bahorel rolled his eyes. "Of course he got a ring. He's Combeferre, he does things properly." Hearing footsteps on the stairs he quickly hissed "hiding places everyone" and stepped behind the curtain, the others all finding somewhere for themselves though Grantaire grumbled about his back as he ducked down behind his table. They gave their friends a couple of seconds to enter the room once they'd heard the door open, then they all jumped up, shouting "Congratulations!" as they did so.

Enjolras and Jehan blinked at them all in shock before looking at each other.

"Hey did they-"

"Did you-"

Both stopped when they realised the other was just as confused and Enjolras laughed quietly, glancing round their friends.

"I should have known it'd be impossible to keep it a secret round you guys," he smiled.

"Speak for yourself," Jehan muttered. "They shouldn't have been able to find out unless you told them."

"Innocent."

"Find out what?" Bahorel demanded, before shaking his head when he heard footsteps again. "No time, tell us after. Just hide and shout congrats when they appear."

"When who appears?" Enjolras hissed, finding himself next to Feuilly.

"Ferre and Courf."

"Why?"

Feuilly hadn't chance to answer before the pair in question were in the doorway, hand in hand, and Bahorel was shouting again.

"You little snitch," Combeferre told Éponine once they'd stopped laughing and had accepted everyone's hugs.

"Yeah, we were gonna make a big announcement of it. Wait, she knew?" Courfeyrac turned to Combeferre and raised one eyebrow dramatically. "You told others of your plans before I found out?"

"Well I was hardly going to tell you my plans to propose to you then ask what you thought of them."

"...You have a point."

"I often do."

"Yeah yeah, enough of the sickening cuteness, let me see the ring," Bahorel interrupted. The laughter from behind made him shrug defensively. "What?"

"You are such a girl," Bossuet informed him.

Éponine rolled her eyes. "We all know that. I'm more interested in what our fearless leader and resident poet were going on about before. What aren't we supposed to know about?"

"Isn't it obvious? They're dating."

Everyone turned to look at Feuilly in shock before staring at them both.

"...Dating?" Joly asked finally.

"Technically," Enjolras shrugged. With a look at Jehan he sighed and pulled his left hand out of his pocket. "Though technically, as of today, we are a little more than that."

Courfeyrac's squeal of congratulations was almost at a pitch only dogs could hear and had Combeferre wincing and wishing he was stood further away.

"You got married?" Grantaire said quietly, a stunned expression on his face.

"Uh, yeah. About two hours ago." Enjolras shared a small smile with his husband. "We were going to tell someone first, but then... Well, we didn't know how to choose who to tell, and we weren't sure how to tell some of you." The blonde had carefully avoided looking at his ex as he spoke but now he risked a quick glance.

"How long have you been dating?" Grantaire asked finally.

"Seven months."

"Seven... Excuse me one moment." Grabbing the bottle and his glass Grantaire swiftly opened it and poured a glass, downing it in one. He poured a second moments later, only pausing when Joly placed a hand on his.

"Wait," the doctor said softly before looking back at Enjolras. "If you would excuse us." Taking the bottle and glass from the artist Joly dragged him towards the door, bundling him into the nearest empty room, slamming the door shut behind him. "You're not over him."

"That door closed a long time ago," Grantaire laughed bitterly. "When he got drunk enough to forget me for ten minutes and all because of some stupid argument we had. No, I'm over him. I just didn't expect him to come walking in married so completely out of the blue."

"I felt the same with Bossuet," Joly shrugged, "when he showed up with Musichetta one night. But it's been six years since things went wrong Grantaire. You need to stop lying to yourself and get over him."

"I am," Grantaire insisted again. "Honestly, truly."

"How many people have you dated in the past six years?"

Grantaire hesitated. "Two."

"And neither of them serious." Joly raised one eyebrow. "Still think you're over him?"

"Yes!"

Grabbing Grantaire's head Joly reached up and kissed him hard, eyebrow still raised when he moved away again. "So if I were to do that again, you wouldn't stop me?"

The artist stared at him in shock, fingers tracing his lips softly before he spoke. "What? I mean, no. I mean... Oh fuck what I mean. Come here." Their second kiss was a lot softer than the first, fingers tangling in hair as they pressed close together.

"Well, at least we'll never forget anniversaries for anyone," Joly chuckled, making Grantaire smile as he laced their fingers together and pulled him towards the door, wine long since forgotten. The cheers went up the second their friends noticed their linked hands but neither cared, both happy to retire to Grantaire's corner and watch the celebrations going on around them.

"So when are you two finally gonna get hitched?" Grantaire called out eventually, sick of Bahorel's comments aimed at the pair of them. Everyone else soon picked up on the question and the teasing began properly, right up until Bahorel laughed and pulled Éponine closer.

"Can't be bothered," he grinned, kissing the top of her head as he hugged her to him. "After all, today's our eleventh anniversary. If we get married we'd have to start counting again, and that's just too much like hard work."

"You can't fault his logic," Combeferre agreed from where he was waiting for Courfeyrac to get back with their drinks.

"Besides," Éponine added, "there's enough weddings happening anyway without us getting involved. Everyone would be sick of the ceremony by the time it's our turn."

"Amen to that."


End file.
